Ringing In The New Year
by Taisa Prongsie
Summary: Abby and Timothy spent their New Year's with some friends, and have plans of their own. McAbby. PWP.


**Title**: Ringing In The New Year  
**Author**: Taisa_Prongsie  
**Rating**: NC-17 / FRMA  
**Pairing**: Abigail "Abby" Sciuto & Timothy "Tim" McGee  
**Category**: Romance (if you squint), PWP.  
**Genre**: Het.  
**Spoilers**: Absolutely none.  
**Summary**: Abby and Timothy spent their New Year's with some friends.  
**Disclaimers**: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note**: This story is highly pronoun heavy, mostly because I wasn't sure who I wanted Abby to be with. Oh, and it's un-beta'ed, so any mistakes are my own.

Drifting slowly into consciousness as the winter sunlight streamed into the room, the sound of the refrigerator opening and water from the kitchen faucet alerted her to the presence of others in the room. Her hands moved over the smooth suede of the chaise lounge in which she was currently curled up, pushing her up enough to investigate the early morning noises.

A few feet in front of her, she could see the broad, strong back at the kitchen sink filling and refilling his cup of water, hoping to rehydrate after the celebrations from the night before. As she observed the boxer-clad man in front of her, she became more and more aware of her own dry mouth and her sudden thirst.

Reluctantly pushing the soft cotton blanket off of her and pulling on her fleece robe, she placed her two feet on the cold hardwood floor and stood up. Pausing a moment to assess how bad the after effects of imbibing last night were, she happily realized her head was not spinning, though her body was less-than-satisfied with her decision to move after so minimal sleep. With quiet steps, she made her way towards the man at the counter.

Wrapping her arms around him, she revelled in the warmth of his skin through the sweet-smelling t-shirt he was wearing. "Morning," she muttered, far too busy nuzzling him to make herself any more intelligible. He placed the glass on the marble counter beside him and turned around, taking her into his arms and nuzzling the top of her head. "Happy New Year," he smiled into her jet black hair.

"I would say so, since I got to spend it with you," she smiled as she opened the white wooden cabinets to get her own glass. Finding one large and adequate enough, she started filling hers up with cold, refreshing water.

"Do you remember much about last night?"

"Hmm... depends on who's asking, of course," she winked as she walked back to the chaise lounge. Curling her legs beneath her and sipping her water, she inquired further. "Why?"

While her face seemed unaffected, her body belied any cool composure she currently had; just thinking about last night sent shivers and goosebumps all over her body. Fiery, delicious shocks of energy that she basked in as she feigned innocence.

"Oh, no idea..."

With a roll of her bright eyes, she knew if the game was not dropped, she would have to drag every last detail out of him. "I remember all of last night," she smiled knowingly. "Don't tell me you're going to make this morning awkward simply because you don't know how to handle some heavy petting..."

"Oh. Well. Um. We _were_ in front of other people... in front of our friends, obviously it's going to bother me. Can you imagine what they'll say when everyone wakes up?"

"Trust me, sweetie," she got up from the comfortable chair and cupped his face in her hands. "First of all, no one will be waking up for at least another two hours or so given the sheer volume of alcohol everyone had. I can assure you that they were just as gone as we were, if that makes you feel any better," she cooed as she rubbed his back. "Oh, and if you couldn't see them, they really enjoyed the show," her eyes suddenly got dark. "If only for that, you can't honestly tell me you're embarrassed."

"...I am, sort of..."

Leaning over to look her bashful friend in the eyes, she whispered in a low, seductive growl, "You shouldn't be. I've never come so hard before..."

**THE NIGHT BEFORE**

The few inhibitions she had were slowly stripped away throughout the cold winter night before with each crystal tumbler filled with blueberry bourbon, while her passions increased with each shot glass filled with chilled blackberry vodka as the night progressed.

As her body temperature began to soar, she eagerly pressed herself flat against the white walls of the apartment in hopes of even the slightest bit of relief. The door gave just enough of a draft to allow any persistent, winter winds to sneak through and ghost over her bare arms, keeping the heat at bay.

Laughing and joking with the fellow guests, she was having a wonderful time. When he walked by, the two shared a snarky, sarcastic banter for a while, enjoying the lack of inhibitions by which they were often plagued. Seeing an opportune place to rest his head, he knelt down to sidle up to her, using her large breasts as pillows. When he leaned against her body, he felt the heat radiating off of her, which only enhanced the smell of the cinnamon perfume gracing her wrists and neck. The smell, enticing as it was, only intensified as she bent over to playfully poke his nose. Looking up into her eyes, he smirked deeply - a confidence he normally didn't have - before taking her finger between his teeth and slowly licking around with his tongue.

His blue eyes bore into hers, sending a bolt of liquid lightning down her spine, daring her to poke him once again. Despite knowing full well that one could not - and should not - expect different results in an experiment if one did not change the method, she was more than willing to replicate her actions for the sake of this usually gratifying game. Certainly, if the results were as delicious as they currently were, could any other scientist fault her for wanting to press the same buttons again and again?

Pressing and poking his nose multiple times, with his pink tongue wrapping around her digit each and every time, the heat she felt was no longer the alcohol's fault. As her attention was focused on the cherry lips holding her finger hostage, his large hands were able to slide up from the ground, along her sides, and grasped her breasts firmly and catch her by surprise. Evidenced by the moan of delight, the fact he was turning her on in front of their colleagues and friends aroused him more than he would have ever imagined. Kneading her breasts and pinching her now-stiffened nipples - with or without their current audience - was something he never would have believed would have happened, in the first place.

_I better not let this go to waste..._

She could feel chills and shivers delight across her body, with tingles of both anticipation and pleasure. Certainly, the whole room heard her (_I always was loud in the bedroom..._), so there was really nothing to hide now. As he focused on her chest, she began slowly scratching his stomach and chest. Her crimson nails caressed his pale skin at first, eliciting scores of goosebumps, but that wasn't good enough for her. With every round, the pressure would increase; when her fingernails were insistent enough where they left white marks all across him, his own hands dropped to the floor to grasp something - _anything_ - because of her ministrations. Making her way through the tuft of his happy trail showing, then up along his abdomen, across his pectorals and around his pink nipples, she enjoyed the delicious noises coming from his plump mouth.

He licked and bit his lip. She was playing with him, and he knew it. As soon as the whimpers escaped his mouth, the game was hers entirely. Of course, the fact that her fingers were digging into him even more set his hips into action. He was growing harder and harder, his nerves were set on fire, and he knew how futile thrusting into the air was, but he couldn't help it. Reluctantly taking her hands off of him, he got up from the floor and pinned them against the wall behind her.

"Stop."

"Do I have to?" Her eyes twinkled in amusement. She didn't care who saw them. She knew what she wanted, badly, and none of their audience seemed to mind. In fact, the looks in their eyes claimed they rather enjoyed the show.

"Yes," he ordered.

"Somehow, I don't believe that," her fingers extended in hopes to escape the strong grip he had on her.

Naturally, she was asking for her own punishment. If he were in his right mind (_Where the hell did that go?_), he would never give her what she wanted. ...Then again, he never would have wound up in this position, but that's really beside the point. His blue eyes narrowed, his head lowered, and he wrapped his lips around her left nipple. Then, he bit down. Hard. Enough to make her squeal. Enough to make his cock throb.

Drawing everyone's attention toward them, her lips turned into a devious smile. Their audience was not necessarily surprised that any of this was happening, as it was inevitable with such sexually charged company in a sober state. Yet they remained inquisitive with hints of amusement. What had happened to make their little darling cry out in such pleasure and writhe beneath her captor? Was that really the boy who had been so quiet and so shy actually taking charge and growling in her ear?

Oh yes, indeed.

_Ooh, yes._

His hands, still wrapped tightly around her pale wrists, guided her up from her sitting position and away from the door. At the moment she was on her knees, he pulled her waist towards him and gently placed a hand at the nape of her neck. She was directed down onto all fours, where she shivered in anticipation. Reaching back, he put as much power as possible into a sharp, loud slap delivered to her left cheek. With a start, her body jumped forward out of the sheer strength behind such a spanking, and a moan threatened to break free from her bright red lips. With his right hand gripping her waist as an anchor, he followed through with a few more strikes before leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

"Never talk back, my dear. Such bad manners need to be rectified, and if I have to do it myself, I will. You've had far too much reign these past few years. Understand me?"

She nodded her head ever so slightly.

"What's that?" He spanked her. "Do. You. Understand. Me?" His tone became stronger and more insistent, with each and every syllable emphasized by his hand connecting with her jean-clad skin.

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?" A hiss was barely evident.

"Yes, master," she reluctantly yet obediently mewled. He had never, in her wildest dreams, come across as being quite so dominant to her. And yet, here he was, doing everything she ever wanted, everything she desired.

"That's what I thought. Get onto the chaise. Right. Now."

Letting the final word trail off, his blue eyes once again caught hers. Unlike earlier when they were sparkling with competition, they had darkened with lust. Within her a fire was raging, and she knew he was the only one to ignite her yet, he was the only one to cool her down. Quite an unexpected power coming from him, but one she intended to relish as long as he kept his guard down.

The dark brown chair allowed her to spread out completely. Scooting all the way back, resting her arms on either side, and raising an eyebrow at the man before her, she awaited his next move. Placing a knee between her legs, he kissed and licked her neck.

"I knew one day I would be able to make you listen to me."

"Fuck you," she retorted daringly.

"When, where, and how hard?" He pulled back to wink at her.

"Now, here, and as hard as possible," she purred into his ear before biting his shoulder.

He let out a groan of surprise, and of a mix between pleasure and pain. "Spread your legs, missy."

Without a further word, she placed his hands on her upper thighs and let him open her. Leaning directly on top of her, she could feel his erection pressing right up against her. His hips began pistoning, rubbing her through her jeans. The friction between the fabric each was wearing massaged her, deep inside. The two moaned, groaned and made every other lascivious sound possible, unaffected by the curious and aroused eyes eagerly viewing their rendez-vous.

She scooted down in the chair which allowed him to hit right up against her clitoris, sending shivers all over her body. He snuck his hand inside of her jeans, sliding along her wet lips. He could only imagine how sweet she would taste against his tongue, but for the time being, he was satisfied. With two fingers, he went inside her and caressed her G-spot while his thumb manipulated her already over-stimulated clit. When her whole body began to shake and quiver, he increased his speed until she called out his name and dug her nails into his back.

After she regained control, one of her delicate hands reached between them and rubbed his cock through his pants, while the other grabbed his ass, earning her an equally dark bruise on her shoulder. Biting her own lip and flashing a devilish smile at the man above her, she began to unzip his jeans just enough to truly touch him as he was doing to her. Pumping her hands as fast as she could, she saw the flicker of lust, of heat, of desire light up in his eyes.

He knew he was going to come, just from the way her hands wrapped around his cock and from the way she was looking at him. She worked him up and worked him over so thoroughly that only a few strokes in, her hand was covered in his white, sticky seed. With a smile, she pulled her hand back and licked every trace off of her, savouring his taste.

Aftershocks tore through them, waves of passion coursing through their bodies just as the clock struck midnight. They could hear cheers of "Happy New Year" and celebration ringing throughout the house, and it certainly was a happy one. He pulled her up out of what would forever be considered "their chair" and they carefully walked upstairs to change before returning and falling contentedly asleep in each others' arms.


End file.
